


For the Best

by Lyviel



Series: Inquisitor Elden [7]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Break Up, But not because of the breakup!, Implied/Referenced Torture, M/M, Psychological Torture, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, don't worry there will be a happy ending!, the inquisitor goes through so much in this y'all
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-29
Updated: 2018-07-31
Packaged: 2019-04-14 08:06:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 18,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14131788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lyviel/pseuds/Lyviel
Summary: An au where Dorian realized that his and the Inquisitor’s relationship is going to ruin the Inquisition’s efforts so he decided to break things off. Inspired by a promp from justalittlemeenah on tumblr





	1. Chapter 1

There was no way that this could work. Dorian had known that from the beginning, but somehow he'd deluded himself, letting this all go on much too long. He'd wanted it too much, wanted to be at the Inquisitor's side so strongly that he'd let himself ignore the warning signs. But Dorian knew how these things went. It would all crash and burn eventually, he only hoped it wasn't too late to preserve the Inquisition's reputation.

He'd tried to be discrete from the beginning, but the rumors only grew more vicious and cruel the longer he and the Inquisitor were together. Numerous meetings with dignitaries had nearly been derailed by inappropriate questions, implications that the Inquisitor could quite literally be in bed with the enemy, as if Elden hadn't been standing against all this nonsense from the very beginning while these selfish and greedy nobles were too busy squabbling amongst themselves.

It was infuriating, watching all this happen and being unable to stop it. All he'd wanted to do was help, somehow ease at least a fraction of the weight on Elden's shoulders. But then, perhaps his motives had been more selfish than he'd wanted to realize, desiring to indulge in the effections Elden so willingly gave as if this sort of relationship was something Dorian could actually have. And in the end, he'd made everything so much worse, had threatened Elden's credibility and hindered the Inquisition's ability to aid those in need.

This had all gone on much too long. It was time to end things between himself and the Inquisitor.

That realization was a horrible weight in the pit of Dorian's stomach. His chest ached at the knowledge of what he had to do, but there was no denying that it was for the best. He told himself Elden would be fine, that he would have no trouble finding someone else to stand at his side. He was the Inquisitor after all, the Herald of Andraste. And there was no denying that Elden was easy to care about.

Knowing what he had to do didn't make it any easier, however. Elden obviously cared for him, had stated on more than one occasion that he was willing to risk the rumors. He was stubborn, had reassured Dorian at every turn despite everything. He'd probably continue to do so even as the Inquisition burned down around them. How was he supposed to make Elden see? Would he be forced to drive Elden way, to make him hate him? Could he do that?

Dorian had seen such tenderness and affection in Elden's eyes. He'd wanted nothing more than to drown in it, to fall into everything Elden offered because he knew he would catch him. The last thing he wanted was to see all of that gone, to see that overwhelming affection replaced with indifference or hatred. The thought alone left him cold, his gut twisting unpleasantly, but he knew that was nothing compared to what he was going to put Elden through if he didn't do this.

* * *

 

"We need to end this."

It was easy enough to steal a moment alone with the Inquisitor, finding him in his quarters working late as usual. He didn't want to draw this out, risk losing his nerve, but as soon as the words left him, when he saw the way Elden's face fell, he winced, hating himself for what he was doing to this man. He would rather die than ever hurt Elden, but he had to remind himself that a little pain now would save him from so much more in the future.

"What?" Elden asked in confusion as he stood, hesitantly approaching a few steps, stopping as if fearing he wasn't allowed to stand close to him any longer.

"It's obvious this isn't going anywhere," Dorian said, having a hard time looking Elden in the eye so instead he studied parts of the room as if uninterested in the conversation; a stack of books he'd accumulated next to the couch where they'd spend evenings studying together, the brandy they'd shared just a few days ago, Elden's laundry folded neatly in the corner even though someone would be by to clean it for him later. These memories and the emotions they stirred up weren't making any of this easier for him so he reluctantly looked back at Elden. "We both obviously want something different from this- relationship. I thought we could try it your way, that it would be fun, but to be honest it just isn't for me. You understand."

"I- I don't," Elden said and Dorian could hear the restrained emotions in his words. "Did I do something wrong? If we're moving too slow-"

"No, no, nothing like that," Dorian interrupted. He hadn't wanted Elden to blame himself, that was the last thing he'd wanted. "You took me by surprise, wanting to try out a proper relationship, but I gave it a go and I suppose I'm just not interested in that. With you. We've had our fun, and now I think it's time we moved on."

"This isn't about the rumors, is it?" Elden asked much too perceptively. "I know you're worried about them, but really-"

"It's not about that," Dorian interrupted more harshly than he'd meant, afraid that if Elden continued he might find a way through Dorian's armor. "You're a good man, but it isn't fair of me to lead you on. I don't want you to think I care more than I do. I'm afraid I'll never feel for you how you feel for me."

"Oh."

It all felt so unreal, honestly, almost dreamlike as if he was watching the scene unfold from elsewhere. He saw the pain and the confusion in Elden's eyes, wanted nothing more than to pull him close and hold him until he could smile again, but of course that could never happen. So he remained detached, holding onto whatever false flippancy he could muster.

"Well, now that that's out of the way, I suppose I should let you get back to work. Good night, Trevelyan."

Somehow, that was the worst of it. They'd been on a first-name basis for some time, except when Dorian insisted on using his title. Reverting to his surname seemed to crush Elden the most, as if everything, even their friendship, was being wiped away. And, honestly, if that made all of this easier, Dorian had no intention of reassuring him.

* * *

 

Thankfully the tavern was surprisingly empty and those patrons who were around seemed to sense that Dorian wished to be left alone because no one bothered him where he sat in a shadowed corner. He couldn't even bring himself to drink the pain away, simply staring at his mug of ale. He had brought this on himself as well as Elden, he deserved every ounce of pain.

He'd been such a fool, how could he do this yet again? Apparently he hadn't learned anything. He'd come south wanting to improve things for a change, to help people and make a difference. Instead, he did what he always did and fucked everything up.

He wanted to imagine Elden being angry with him the next time they met, to see him yell or perhaps even banish Dorian for playing with his feelings. He deserved no less after all. But of course that would never happen. The Inquisitor was much too kind. Knowing him, he'd probably act as if nothing happened, be disgustingly respectful of Dorian's decision and avoid pressuring him into a friendship or otherwise pushing his boundaries. And what was Dorian supposed to do? Act like nothing happened as well? It was infuriating. Why couldn't Elden lash out, protect himself instead of risking being taken advantage of?

His grip on the mug was much too tight as he stared down into it at his own reflection. He was angry with Elden, but really that was just to mask the disgust he felt for himself, wasn't it? Maybe he would get drunk after all. At least then he wouldn't have to worry about any of this. For now.

Before he could raise the mug to his lips, however, the door of the tavern banged open loudly. Dorian was planning on ignoring it as well as the bartender yelling at whoever it was for damaging property, but heavy footsteps stormed directly up to him.

"Dorian, I need to speak with you."

"Ah, Commander," Dorian said, barely sparing Cullen a glance. "What are you doing here at this hour?"

To his surprise, Cullen took the seat across from and Dorian finally saw the poorly concealed concern in his eyes. "The Inquisitor has gone missing."

"What?" Dorian asked, his mind refusing to believe what he was hearing. "How is that even possible?"

"He and a small party left this evening on a mission. They were planning on staying at the first waycamp, but the Inquisitor reportedly went to scout the perimeter and never came back."

"What about Leliana's scouts? Surely someone is out looking for him!" Dorian snapped, barely keeping his voice quiet, feeling angry and terrified and guilty all at once.

"They're out looking but haven't found anything yet, which is why we suspect someone perhaps found him and is concealing their tracks. Some of the others are going out to look for him. We thought you might want to accompany them as well."

So it seems Elden hadn't told anyone about their conversation. Dorian knew it wasn't his place any longer but, Maker, he needed to be in that search party. He'd never forgive himself if something happened to him. So he said nothing and simply nodded. The only thing that mattered was finding Elden and Dorian would tear the world apart if he had to.


	2. Chapter 2

Nothing, nothing,  _ nothing. _ They’d been over the entire area again and again and they could find no evidence of Elden; no footprints in the snow, no broken branches, nothing! Where could he have gone? The scouts were spreading out, covering as much area as they could, but there wasn’t much Dorian himself could do. 

Dorian was pacing back and forth, filled with too much energy with nothing to expend it on. Tracking wasn’t exactly his area of expertise no matter how much he’d picked up during their travels so all he could really do was wait for the scouts to find something and he’d never felt so useless. 

Really it was the not knowing that was the worst of it. He was cycling wildly between fury and terror, trying to convince himself that this all must be a mistake, that Elden must have simply wandered off and deserved a talking to for worrying everyone. But he knew that couldn’t be true. Elden would never want to worry anyone this way.

“How had the Inquisitor seemed to you?” Dorian called out to Cassandra as she passed by on her way to check in with the scouts. He tried to pretend not to notice how desperate he sounded. 

“Same as always,” Cassandra said. “There was no indication that anything was wrong. I highly doubt he had planned on wandering off.”

“Fantastic,” Dorian muttered, trying to ignore the ache in his chest.

It didn’t help that he couldn’t shake the image of how Elden had last looked at him from his mind. He’d been crushed, so hurt and betrayed that Dorian could tell him that he didn’t care. What if that was the last thing he’d ever get to say to Elden? 

“Over here!”

He spun around as the scout called out and all but ran towards them, everyone else in the area hurrying to join them. The scout was holding up a green thread that Dorian recognized immediately from Elden’s scarf. 

“We’re on the right track,” Cassandra said, urgently.

Dorian caught the grim look on her face as they marched on and knew they were both thinking the same thing. It was all too likely that Elden had been captured and was attempting to leave a trail for them to follow. Dorian couldn’t help but feel proud, knowing Elden had managed this even under duress, but it existed as evidence that Elden had not simply wandered off. That his life was in danger.

The next several hours were aggravating, one moment floundering around, terrified they’d lost the trail entirely, only to discover a clue a short time later. And they were heading ever closer to Emprise du Lion, where they knew the Red Templars had dug in. They continued up into the mountains in silence, none of them voiced their concerns out loud, as if that might somehow prevent it from being real. 

That’s when they found it, the mass of footprints in the snow and a hastily abandoned camp, some sort of chaos apparently erupting in the ranks and leaving them to decide it was pointless or at least no longer necessary to continue covering their tracks. Dorian couldn’t help but feel hopeful, perhaps Elden had escaped? He broke into a sprint, following the chaotic tracks, coming to a skidding halt when he spotted the crimson spilled across the snow. Blood. 

Dorian couldn't breathe. He knew that it didn’t necessarily mean it was Elden’s. Perhaps he’d even managed to kill most of his attackers. But then, where were the bodies? And why wasn’t Elden here? Why hadn’t he returned to them? None of this was looking good. He glanced up and made eye contact with Cassandra, her expression no doubt the same as his and he felt cold and helpless and desperate but there was nothing to do but continue.

-

As they got higher up into the mountains, they discovered trails and pathways that the Venatori and Templars appeared to use frequently and the knowledge that they’d become that entrenched was unsettling. And they were running out of sunlight, no way they could search the entire area before the dark forced them to set up camp, and then they’d risk getting ambushed. Not to mention that their hope of finding Elden alive dropped with every hour that passed. 

Cassandra ordered many of the others to split up to cover more ground and Dorian was uncomfortably aware of the lack of clues from Elden letting them know they were headed in the right direction and what that likely meant. Dorian was beginning to lose hope, feeling chilled to the bone and not able to muster the energy for a warming spell. A storm was moving in, the snowflakes gentle for the moment but the clouds were dark with the promise of more, although even with just this the footprints they were following would be obscured soon enough. 

He was barely paying attention, lost in his own thoughts, when he collided with Blackwall who had stopped in front of him. Dorian was prepared to say something no doubt witty and seething when he caught his expression.Turning to follow his gaze, the saw that the path they were on dropped steeply into a valley and there, in the center, was a crumbling ruin. 

Dorian felt a surge of hope at the sight, but quickly reminded himself that there was no guarantee that Elden was even here. Still, it was in keeping with everything Dorian knew about Tevinters that they would do something as dramatic as imprison an enemy in a place as atmospheric as this. 

“As soon as they spot us, the Inquisitor’s life will be in danger,” Cassandra said to them, voice low. “We need to get as close as we can without alerting them, then split up to cover as much ground as possible.”

The increasingly heavy snowfall as well as the waning light was excellent cover as they made their way into the valley. A handful of scouts immediately broke off to ensure there were no Venatori keeping lookout in the nearby hills that might spot them as they continued their approach. 

Dorian was hyper aware of every sound they made, every time he stumbled in the deep snow, every clink of heavy armor on Cassandra, Blackwall, and a few of the scouts. Thankfully the guards didn’t hear them until it was too late. Vivienne easily froze one while Cole took out the other, silent as always. And then they were spreading out, searching every corner of the ruin, hoping to catch any Venatori by surprise or, better yet, find Elden. 

Dorian sprinted down a corridor, glancing into side rooms as he went, feeling like he could barely breathe. He wanted to call out Elden’s name but that would definitely get him killed. As he came around a corner into a wide room, he spotted a figure crouching on top of a table and he slid to a halt, staff at the ready. 

The figure was twitching unsettlingly as it turned towards him with agonizing slowness and there was no mistaking the telltale red glow that came from it. A Templar infected with red lyrium. And as it turned around, stepped slightly to the side giving him a proper view of the table, Dorian felt like the floor had been pulled out from under him, a cold terror swallowing him whole. It had been crouched over a body spread out on the table, makeshift restraints around wrists and ankles, and even in the dim light Dorian could recognize Elden.

The templar regained his attention when it opened its mouth and let out a decidedly inhuman screech, it’s teeth chipped and broken, some even replaced with sharp red fangs. It shuddered and twitched violently in a disturbingly unnatural manner, more red spikes of lyrium bursting from under his skin and Dorian tried not to retch at the sight. Its joints seemed all wrong as it stood to its full height, suddenly leapting at him with startling speed, what was left of its arms replaced with spears of lyrium that it raised them, ready to attack. 

Taken by surprise, Dorian barely got his staff up in time, knocking the attack aside. He felt a cold terror run up his spine not from the horrific sight but from the fear that someone could have heard it or the sounds of their battle and it would give them all away. He summoned up all the magic he could and released a bolt of electricity that caused it to fly back. It’s body twitched a few times after it hit the ground, most of the crystals shattered, and finally it lay still.

Dorian practically leapt over the body, rushing to Elden’s side. This close he could tell he was breathing, thank the Maker, but he was so pale. He’d been stripped of his armor, his shirt torn at the bottom and Dorian could see a hastily applied bandage, blood seeping through and in desperate need of changing lest the injury become infected. He pressed the back of his hand to Elden’s forehead, feeling the fever there, as he took his hand and squeezed gently. Elden’s eyes fluttered open, but it wasn’t relief Dorian saw in his expression.

“No,” Elden repeated over and over again, voice harsh from either disuse or strain. “No, please, not you, you can’t be here!”

“Shh, amatus,” Dorian said, moving to brush a hand against his check, but pulled back again in surprise when Elden flinched away. “I’m going to get you out of here.” 

“No, I can’t— not again, please,” Elden said, voice desperate. “Bring my brother back, please, anything but this. I understand what you wanted to show me, so please, don’t make me go through this again, I can’t.” 

He barely seemed to register anything Dorian was saying, tugging desperately at his restraints and Dorian hurried to undo them before he could do anymore damage to himself, although his wrists were already raw. While there were no tears now, there were tracks down his face, evidence that he had been crying. 

“Please,” Elden said, addressing him now instead of some unknown presence. “Please don’t.”

“Shh, amatus,” Dorian said as soothingly as he could, feeling his heart break. “I’m getting you out of here.”

“No,” Elden said sadly, even as Dorian urged him to sit up. “You’ll go soon enough, they all do.”

“Look at me,” Dorian said, taking Elden’s face in his hands, pressing his forehead to his and wishing there was more he could do, wishing he could have stopped this from ever happening. “You’re safe now. Can you stand?”

Elden sighed and closed his eyes for a moment before nodding. 

“Good. Let’s get you out of here.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> aaa I'm sorry, I can't write action!

There were no words to describe how terrible it was, seeing Elden in this state, pale and just so hopeless and empty. There wasn’t really time to deal with that at the moment, however. They were still in grave danger and he needed to get the Inquisitor out of here. Elden complied when he urged him up, but he’d gone silent, eyes on the ground as he winced through the pain in his side, perhaps convinced this was nothing more than a dream.  
  
He was going along with it, however, and that was all Dorian could ask. He took one of Elden’s arms across his shoulder to support him, hoping the stab wound in his side could wait for attention for a while longer, and they hobbled out of the room together. Dorian had only gone down a few long hallways on the way here but somehow making his way back felt like an eternity. Elden’s labored breathing in his ear only made him more acutely aware of every step.   
  
He could hear the sound of battle ahead of them now and he tried to get his staff at the ready, but it was an awkward position still supporting Elden. As he rounded a corner, the shuffling of rubble caught his attention. He shoved Elden up against a wall hoping he could support himself for the moment, clenching his teeth at the grunt of pain it drew from him, but there wasn’t time.   
  
Dorian spun around, staff up at the ready, in time to see a red templar, just as corrupted as the other he’d killed, jump down at him from a hole in the crumbling wall. Dorian had his barrier up in plenty of time to send the creature glancing back but it recovered much too quickly, it’s movements more animalistic than human as it leapt at him again. Dorian brought the sharp tip of his staff up, slicing through its chest where it’s armor had split from the red lyrium jutting from it’s chest. Ripping it out and swinging around the blunt end of the staff, he smashed it to the ground with a sickening crunch and immediately rushed to Elden’s side again.   
  
Elden was staring around wildly, at the creature Dorian had just killed as well as the others they could see around the corner ahead of them still locked in battle. He was grasping at his side as if looking for his sword and Dorian took his arm again, pulling him up off the wall and urging him on.   
  
“I know you’d rather fight but you’re in no condition,” Dorian chided, trying to sound as if his heart wasn’t pounding out of his chest at how tense this all was.   
  
They needed to pass a hallway before they could reach the exit and Dorian didn’t even realize he was holding his breath as they approached, straining to see around the corner. The sounds of battle were getting louder as well and he almost didn’t hear the quiet footsteps hurrying up behind him. Before he could make a move, the Iron Bull stepped out of the passageway directly in front of them.   
  
“Get down!”   
  
More from relex than anything Dorian dodged to the side at Bull’s command, nearly falling as Elden stumbled beside him. Still, they managed to get out of the way as Bull’s axe collided with the wall where they had been standing a moment before, a Venatori spy pinned there, nearly cut in half.   
  
“Thanks for that,” Dorian said, helping Elden stand again.   
  
“Pleasure,” Bull replied, wrenching his ax free, although his smile vanished as he looked over the Inquisitor’s state before turning his eye back to Dorian. “I’ll hold them off, get the boss out of here.”   
  
“Don’t have to tell me twice.”   
  
Dorian hated passing by everyone locked in the heat of battle. He wanted to stay and fight as much as Elden did, but all he could do was throw up barriers and shoot off a spell or two as he passed. He needed to get Elden out of here. And then, finally, they were outside and free. The storm was all but blinding now and he hardly knew where he was going. He could still hear the terrible cries of the creatures that had once been human and it spurred them on.   
  
Dorian was trying to remember where the pathway had been as they climbed their way out of the valley. He was squinting through the snow so focused that he almost missed when the ground dropped away in front of them. They came to a sliding hald at the ledge and Dorian sighed in relief. Well, he supposed, they’d found the road at least.   
  
Now that they were stopped, trying to catch their breath and Elden feeling much heavier against him, he could hear the sound of footsteps and the clank of armor. Had reinforcements arrived? But then he caught sight of glowing red through the heavy snowfall. Reinforcements for the enemy. Of course. They could probably leave the path and climb down where they’d nearly fallen. It was steep but not impossible to navigate, but he needed to warn the others or they’d get trapped in.   
  
He planted his staff on the ground, concentrating hard as he pulled up as much magic as he could muster. This would have to be a careful shot or he’d get them all killed. He aimed for a spot above the marching templars where he remembered the mountain wall being and released his magic just as the cry went up as he was spotted. They had no time to act, however, as his shot caused a small avalanche to come crashing down on top of them.   
  
“This way,” he heard Varric say behind him and nearly jumped out of his skin. He hadn’t heard him approach.   
  
Dorian had no desire to stick around to see how effective his attack had been and instead turned to Varric who was already clambering down the steeper part of the mountain. Dorian lowered Elden down to him and between the two of them they managed to make their escape.   
  
\-   
  
Dorian wasn’t sure how far they’d gone, out here surrounded by nothing but white with no way to tell distance, but he could feel Elden shivering against him and he knew they would have to stop soon. Thankfully Varric found an area up against a cliff face that would provide them some protection from the wind and snow. Dorian tried to use his magic to warm Elden, but they’d need a proper fire for the long run. Varric was in the middle of piling up a bundle of sticks he’d had in his pack when they both froze at the sound of footsteps in the snow outside.   
  
Dorian raised a finger to his lips signaling Varric to keep quiet as he gingerly picked up his staff and approached. A display of magic could draw attention if there was anyone in the area so he held his staff out, blade at the ready. The footsteps grew closer and he could hear the clink of armor. Holding his breath he waited until the last second before leaping out to confront the templar--   
  
Only to discover Cassandra standing there, eyebrow raised and eyeing his staff.   
  
“Maker, Cassandra,” he said, exhaling and leaning against the stone in his relief. “Am I glad to see you. How did you find us?”   
  
She gestured behind her and through the snow he could see Cole there, looking restless. Of course he’d managed to locate them. Vivienne and Blackwall came trudging up behind them as well.   
  
“Is--” Dorian said hesitantly, afraid to ask. “Are we all that’s left?”   
  
“Thankfully no. We were separated,” Cassandra explained. “but I believe everyone made it out. It’s unlikely we’ll be able to find them in this storm though. We might as well set up camp here until the storm dies down.”

Dorian nodded and returned to kneel at Elden’s side. He seemed disoriented and confused so Dorian placed a hand on his shoulder, squeezing gently.

  
“It’s alright now, Inquisitor. You’re safe,” Dorian assured him.

“Am I?” Elden asked, staring out into the swirling snow.

  
“Yes,” Dorian said as comfortingly as he could, brushing hair from Elden’s forehead. “You can rest, I’m here.”

  
“For how long?” Elden said it so quietly Dorian wasn’t entirely sure he heard it correctly, but Elden sighed almost immediately and continued. “I’m sorry, never mind, just, don’t make promise you can’t keep.”

Dorian wasn’t quite sure what to say to that so instead he pulled his bedroll out of his pack and draped it over Elden while the others began setting up the tents.


	4. Chapter 4

The camp was tense and restless, everyone expecting an attack at any moment what with the storm limiting their ability to keep proper watch. And then there was Elden. He was still so pale and by the time they were able to move him inside one of the tents he was completely unconscious. They bundled him up in blankets after Vivienne worked her healing magic, and finally they left him to rest.

Dorian refused to leave his side however, Elden’s words still ringing in his mind and he desperately didn’t want him to wake up alone. Instead he held his hand tightly, watching over him. It wasn’t like he would be getting any rest anyway. He hadn’t slept since the night before, he realized, but the guilt and the worry were all he could focus on. And the murderous headache. It had been growing worse thanks to the red lyrium sprouting up everywhere here and there wasn’t much he could do about it.

Dorian sighed and rubbed his temple, his eyes aching, but he knew it was nothing compared to what Elden had been through. He’d seemed so disoriented, as if he was sure Dorian wasn’t real, that he was some sort of vision conjured up to torment him. What had they done to him? It was infuriating having nothing he could do to soothe him now and all they could do was wait. Dorian hated waiting.

* * *

He hadn’t meant to fall asleep, but the next thing Dorian knew he was jolted awake by the sound of a whimper. He was half way up, reaching for his staff, before he realized it had come from Elden. His chest ached at the sight of him, face twisted in pain and fear as he curled tightly in on himself. Dorian brushed the sweat-soaked hair from his eyes and kept his voice low and, hopefully, soothing as he crouched beside him again.

“Amatus, it’s just a dream, wake up.”

Elden flinched at his touch but at least his eyes finally opened and it was a relief seeing him finally awake. He blinked around blearily and seemed to relax when his eyes fell on Dorian. He sighed, trying to slow his breathing and Dorian had to resist the urge to pull him close and wrap him in his arms. Elden desperately needed comfort now, but Dorian could only provide it as a friend now. As much as he hated himself for his timing, ending things right when Elden needed him most, it wouldn’t do to complicate things further.

“There you are. Welcome back to the land of the living,” Dorian said, hoping to lighten things, take Elden’s mind off of the nightmares. “How are you feeling?”

“I--I think I’m fine now,” Elden replied hesitantly and Dorian couldn’t help but note that his voice was hoarse from strain. He winced, however, his hand going to his side.

“I imagine that’ll take a bit to heal up. There was only so much Vivienne could do. Just don’t pull the stitches or there’ll be hell to pay.”

“Remind me to thank her later,” Elden said as he relaxed back into his pillow, still looking exhausted. “I thought for sure none of this was real. I hope I didn’t say anything strange, I can’t really remember much.”

“Nevermind, it’s already forgotten,” Dorian lied. “Quite literally. We were in a bit of a hurry what with all the red templars about and I didn’t exactly catch all of it. Do you want to talk about what happened? Or the nightmare you just had?”

He looked as though he was about to reach out for Dorian but diverted the gesture at the last moment to rub at his face, his movements clumsy. No doubt they were both acutely aware of the lack of contact and it made Dorian angry, mostly at himself, that they both wanted so badly to hold each other but they couldn’t and it was his own fault.

“It’s all kind of jumbled up, I’m not entirely sure what was real. There was a Venatori there, she wanted me to betray the Inquisition. I don’t think I told her anything, but I can’t be certain. I remember talking to people who couldn’t possibly have been there but I just don’t know what was a dream and what wasn’t.”

  
“Who did you see?” Dorian prompted, but Elden was beginning to look panicked again, staring into the middle distance as he relived the memories so Dorian interrupted before he could answer, taking his fingers and squeezing them reflexively without thinking. Regrettably he released him almost immediately. “Shh, that’s fine, Inquisitor. Just rest. We’ll work it out once we’re back in Skyhold.”

  
Elden swallowed and nodding, composing himself before speaking again. “Thank you, by the way. For saving my life. Again.”

“Don’t mention it. You are the Inquisitor, after all. What would we do without you?”

That hadn’t been what Dorian intended to say and as soon as the words left his mouth he knew they had been a mistake, much too casual and flippant. Elden had never been any good at masking his feelings and Dorian knew him too well to miss the way his face fell. Was this all he could do? Chip away at Elden with these cruel comments, dismissing everything they’d been to each other as if their relationship had been nothing? But what else could he say? He couldn’t tell him that he’d been so terrified of losing him, that he regretted it all and cared so deeply for him, that he didn’t know what he would do without him.

“Of course,” Elden said, mustering up a false smile that broke Dorian’s heart. “I’m actually kind of tired, though. Would you mind if I—“

“Certainly, I’ll let you rest.”

Sensing Elden wanted some privacy, or perhaps wanting to escape before he said something else he didn’t mean, Dorian stood and left the tent. He tried to ignore the confused looks he got as he made his way to the fire, everyone no doubt wondering why he’d spent every moment at the Inquisitor’s side until now, but Dorian certainly wasn’t going to offer an explanation.

* * *

Dorian wasn’t sure what time it was, he certainly hadn’t gotten a full night’s sleep, but that was apparently all he would be getting for the moment so there was no point in trying. Pulling his cloak tightly around himself he gingerly stepped over a few sleeping scouts and left the tent. The world outside was still a wall of white, another scout whose name he didn’t know was currently clearing snow from the other tent, ensuring it wouldn’t collapse in on itself. Dorian nodded to her in greeting, but didn’t stop to talk. Instead, he headed for the fire where he could hopefully get something warm to drink. Varric was already there and passed him a mug.

“We can’t just wait here to be ambushed. We must act.” Cassandra’s voice caught his attention and Dorian glanced over to where she was standing against the wall of the cliff, arms crossed and looking restless, apparently arguing with Blackwall and Vivienne.

“The Inquisitor is in no shape to travel,” Vivienne said. “He needs to rest.”

“Then I guess we’d better keep scouting as much as we can,” Blackwall said diplomatically, before Cassandra could argue again.

They split up, none of them looking particularly happy but at least the arguing had stopped. This was ridiculous. With Elden out of commission, there was no one to keep them in check and make the final decisions. Hopefully they could outlast this storm. And hopefully it would end before any proper fights could break out.

Speaking of Elden, he couldn’t help but worry about how he was doing. He should be on the mend but Dorian wouldn’t feel at ease until he was up and about again. Even if his presence wasn’t wanted, Dorian need to check in on him. He stood confidently and marched over to the tent, only pausing for the briefest of moments before brushing the flap aside and entering. It’s doubtful anyone noticed anyway. The Inquisitor was awake to his surprise. He was actually in the process of trying to get up, his movements slow and pained.

“And where do you think you’re going?” Dorian said, dropping down beside him, urging him to lie back down. Elden didn’t exactly have the strength to push back and instead collapsed, breathing hard. He felt warm to the touch, fever warm, and Dorian tried to hide his concern.

“I should be out there,” Elden said desperately. “I should be doing something, I should--”

“You should be resting is what you should be doing,” Dorian reprimanded. “What’s wrong?”

Elden sagged back, looking defeated, avoiding Dorian’s eyes. “I just-- I’m useless. I should be doing something. I’m just making things worse, slowing everyone down. If anyone gets hurt because of me--”

“That’s enough,” Dorian interrupted, brushing his hand against his face again. “None of this is your fault, we’ll be out of here and back home in no time-- and you are awfully warm, are you feeling alright?”

“This is my fault, you wouldn’t be here if not for me--”

“Inquisitor, listen to me. The argument you overheard? It’s just a bit of cabin fever so to speak. You know Cassandra’s never been good at biding her time. We’re save, but we’re stuck here until the storm lets up, so just rest.”

Dorian wasn’t completely sure if he actually convinced Elden of anything or if he simply calmed down due to lack of energy. He was still so pale as his eyes fell closed, his breathing harsh and strained. This wasn’t right, he should be improving not growing worse. He stayed at Elden’s side until he was sure he was asleep before going to find Vivienne. 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning in this chapter for discussions of suicide and an almost attempted suicide. It starts in the second section after the break. I’m not sure how upsetting it is, but you can def skip this chapter if you need to, take care of yourselves!

Dorian sat by the fire, biting absently at his thumb nail and tapping his foot restlessly. Cassandra and Varric were there as well, but none of them spoke. The oppressive atmosphere was nearly stifling as they all waited for news. Vivienne had been tending to the Inquisitor for some time now and each second that went by only made them more apprehensive.

Elden’s face, so pale and desperate and pained, kept flashing before Dorian’s eyes and he had half a mind to charge in there to see how he was doing, but he still felt like it wasn’t his place now. Still, when Vivienne finally left the tent, he nearly leapt to his feet.

“He’s awake but at least he isn’t trying to move any longer,” Vivienne said as she joined them by the fire, taking a seat with a heavy sigh, no doubt exhausted expending so much energy on healing magic. “His wound seems to be healing just fine. It’s possible straining himself as Dorian witnessed is the cause of his fever. I’ll continue to monitor him for the time being. I fear there isn’t much else for us to do for the time being.”

Dorian sat back down with a heavy sigh, rubbing at his face. He wanted to do something, to fight or research or do anything at all. Instead all he could do was sit around helplessly watching as Elden suffered. Apparently Cassandra had had enough as well. She stood with a disgusted noise and walked off into the falling snow, no doubt heading back out to keep watch.

Dorian staring intently into the fire, stomach turning as he imagined the worst coming to pass. He kept telling himself that Elden would be fine once he got some proper rest, but he had been so desperate before, doubting himself all over again. What was Dorian supposed to say? Chances were he was only making Elden feel worse, reminding him of what had happened between them. What if that was only adding to Elden’s strain? Varric looked expectantly back and forth between him and Vivienne before sighing and standing up.

“I’ll go see how he’s doing,” he said. “Maybe I can cheer him up.”

Dorian knew he should have been the one to go to him, but he couldn’t. He’d broken Elden’s heart. He could only make things worse.

-

Nearly everyone had gone to bed, but Dorian remained at the fire long after the sun had set, knowing there would be no sleep for him. He tried to read, but kept flipping through restlessly, or staring at the page too lost in his own thoughts to actually make out any of the words. He sighed and set the book aside, pinching the bridge of his nose.

As he lowered his hand and looked back into the fire, he thought he saw movement out of the corner of his eye. It was hard to see anything through the snow and the dark, so he couldn't be completely sure what it had been. Normally Dorian would be much more likely to simply ignore it, chances were it was just a scout, but he was rather desperate for some sort of distraction so he stood up and threw caution to the wind.

The movement had come from beyond the tents. Those out keeping watch would have no reason to be in the area since it led up against the cliffs at the edge of their camp. There was no cover here from the snow so he pulled up the collar of his coat and squinted through the heavy snowfall until he finally spotted a figure standing near the edge. Dorian froze, feeling like the ground had been pulled out from under him, his heart thundering in his chest.

“Inquisitor?” Dorian called, unable to keep the concern from his voice. Elden was standing so close to the edge. What was he even doing up and about let alone out here?

“I’m sorry,” Elden said, barely glancing back at him. “All I ever seem to do is worry people or let them down. I don’t know why I ever agreed to become Inquisitor, as if this was ever something I could do.”

“Nonsense, you’ve been doing a fine job leading us thusfar,” Dorian said, approaching cautiously, afraid of what might happen if he got too close.

“Thank you,” Elden said, finally looking back at him and it broke Dorian’s heart to see the despair in his face, his eyes red from tears. “I’ve always-- I’ve always considered you a good friend. I’m sorry, I know that’s probably selfish of me.”

“Not at all--”

“It’s okay, I know,” Elden said, looking out over the edge again. “I’ve been a burden since the day I was born. It was only a matter of time until my family cast me aside. I don’t really want to wait around until I live out my usefulness again.”

“Amatus, please,” Dorian said, raising a hand as if he could grab Elden from this distance should he choose to take that last step forward.

Elden turned to him again and smiled so sadly Dorian’s heart broke all over again. “I always liked it when you called me that. You don't need to lie anymore, though. It’s fine, really.”

“That’s not--” Dorian began, but what could he say? How could he explain?

“You don’t have to say anything,” Elden said. “Everyone goes eventually, I understand. I don’t blame anyone for it.”

“Inquisitor, please listen--!”

“She was right,” Elden said as Dorian desperately grasped for words. “The Venatori. She showed me everything. I can still hear her even now, she never stops. But she’s right. I’m useless, I only ever get in the way. All I could do is let my family down, but now there are lives on the line, and I can’t-- I should have died all those years ago. Then at least someone else would have become Inquisitor, someone actually competent. I was too much of a coward then, but perhaps I should finish the job I started.”

“Elden!” Dorian shouted, panic evident in his voice, magic at the ready. “Look at me, talk to me! We chose you for a reason, we follow you for a reason!” He didn’t know-- he didn’t realize-- what had happened to Elden in his past? As bad as things were now, Dorian hadn’t realized he had been suffering so--

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” Elden said as he broke down, but he turned away from the cliff and faced him and that was all that mattered in this moment. “All I ever do is mess up, I don’t know what to do.”

“You don’t have to do anything,” Dorian said, approaching slowly, cautiously. “Do you think we would all be here if Cassandra were the one leading us? She’s a fine warrior and a good friend, but you’re the one whose judgement we all trust. But you don’t have to do this alone. You’re not alone, Elden. But if you don’t want to lead, that’s fine. You still deserve to live, to be happy!”

“Is any of this even really happening?” Elden asked suddenly as tears began streaming down his face. “I was supposed to rot away in the Chantry where I couldn’t get in the way anymore, how did any of this happen? Dorian, is this real?”

Dorian was already rushing forward as Elden collapsed to his knees. He pulled him into his arms, holding him tightly as he trembled against him.

“I guess I’m a coward again after all,” he muttered.

“No,” Dorian whispered. “Never.”

Elden’s forehead was burning hot where it was pressed against Dorian’s cheek, but the rest of him felt so painfully cold. Dorian conjured up a bit of heat to try to warm him for the time being, but he needed to get him inside as quickly as possible.

Glancing over, he saw Varric there, crossbow in hand lowering from the ready position. No doubt he had been prepared to use his grappling hook to try to catch Elden had he fallen. He looking so relieved, if still tense, and Dorian nodded to him with a relieved sigh. Disaster had been averted for the moment at least, but the danger still existed. He pulled Elden more closely against him, damn the consequences, and kissed his forehead.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m sorry this chapter isn’t very good, maybe I’ll try rewriting it when I’m feeling better

After Elden had collapse, all Dorian could do was hold him until he finally quieted. He knew Elden had been insecure in his abilities and his position as Inquisitor, feeling useless and fearing he wasn’t the right man for the job, but the Inquisition had been succeeding lately. Not that that mattered, though. This misstep seemed to have verified all of his fears, outweighing any good he’d ever done.

When Elden began to tremble, likely from the cold, he knew he had to move him. Elden was so weak, Dorian and Varric ended up half carrying him back to his tent. Dorian didn’t know what to say, what to do, angry at the world for breaking Elden down so much, but also angry at himself for being so useless in helping him. For not realizing sooner the terrible strain he’d been under this entire time, for not doing something about it. For leaving him to suffer alone.  
  
Elden was disoriented and half frozen by the time Dorian urged him to lay down, wrapping him in blankets. Elden kept apologizing over and over again. Dorian tried to reassure and soothe, but no doubt he was doing a poor job of it. He could stay at least, watch over him and make sure he slept as peacefully as possible. It was a good thing he planned to stay because Elden was clinging to his shirt so tightly he couldn’t move if he wanted.   
  
Elden was growing worse at an alarming rate and Dorian had no idea what to do. He glanced up at Varric as if he wasn’t as at a loss as he was. He had nothing but a shrug for Dorian, but then Elden flinched, curling in on himself, trying to cover his ears, and they both looked back down at him in alarm.

“Elden?” Dorian called gently, placing his hand over the one curled tightly in his robes.  
  
“I can’t, it won’t stop, it never stops,” Elden said and there was so much pain and desperation in his voice.  
  
“What? What won't stop?”   
  
“I know I’m hopeless, I know I don’t deserve any of this, please just leave me alone,” Elden pleaded, but it didn’t seem like he was addressing them.  
  
“What are you talking about?” Dorian asked, brushing his fingers against Elden’s cheek and Elden looked at him as if he hadn’t realized he was there.   
  
“She’s so loud,” Elden said, pressing against him, hiding his face.   
  
“You said something about the Venatori earlier,” Varric chimed in. “Are you still hearing her?”  
  
“She keeps showing me my brother, my parents-- I tried to ignore it, I thought it was a dream, but I can’t tell what’s real anymore. It’s all just all so loud. Does she still have me? Was escaping ever even an option? I know I’m worthless, please just stop!”  
  
“Shh, Elden,” Dorian said, brushing his fingers through his hair. “You’re not, and you’re not alone. We’ll find a way to get rid of her.”  
  
He covered Elden’s eyes, focusing his magic and easing him to sleep. It wasn’t a spell he used often. There were other spells he prefered on the battlefield and it didn’t exactly leave one feeling rested so there wasn’t much use for it in the bedroom. Right now, however, Dorian didn’t know what else to do. How else could he allow Elden to escape his tormentor? There was no spell at work here, nothing Dorian could sense that could be doing this to him and he was out of ideas. Slowly Elden gave in to slumber, his hold on Dorian’s robes growing limp and slipping free as he finally slept. Dorian sighed.  
  
“We need to get off this mountain.”  
  
Varric nodded agreement. “That’s for sure.”   
  
-

Even after Vivienne had worked her magic on his reopened wound, Elden’s breathing was too quick and he was fever hot to the touch, sweating more than anyone had any right to on a frozen mountainside. Dorian settled in beside him, just the two of them now, taking a cloth Vivenne must have left here to wipe his face and hopefully cool him. He felt empty and tired, at a complete loss, just hoping to make Elden comfortable until they had any idea what to do.

He felt a burning hatred for those who had captured him, for this Venatori that had tortured Elden, made him believe that his own death would have been the more ideal outcome for everyone involved. He hated that she had taken away what should have been a huge source of pride for Elden. He had done so much for the Inquisition, yes, but for all of them as well, lead them to so many victories, and now she had him convinced that he was a failure, that he had done nothing worthwhile. But Drian’s rage was useless, of course. There was nothing he could do until they could figure out what was happening to him.

Suddenly Elden flinched violently, jerking awake, eyes wide in panic as he tried to scramble to his feet. Dorian sat up in alarm, trying to gently but firmly get him to lie down again. It disturbed Dorian how easy it was. Elden had become so weak.

“Shh, Inquisitor, you’re fine, you’re safe,” he said as soothingly as he could.

Thankfully Elden finally seemed to see him, to register his words. He still looked panicked, but at least he wasn’t trying to get up any longer.

“Dorian,” he said urgently. “Dorian, they’re coming, we have to-- we can’t stay here, we need to get out of here.”

“It was just a dream, a-- Trevelyan,” he cursed himself for almost calling him amatus again, but he couldn’t dwell on that right now. Reassuring Elden was the only thing that mattered.

“No, you don’t understand,” he said pleadingly, looking pale and shaken and Dorian’s heart broke for him. “She’s coming, she knows where we are and she’s sending an army of demons after us.”

“It’ll be fine,” Dorian said, hoping he sounded more convincing than he felt. “We have scouts keeping watch, they can’t sneak up on us here. What if she’s using you to try to drive us out of our hiding spot?”

“I-- I don’t-- What do we do then?” he asked, at a loss.

“You simply need to rest. I’ll inform Cassandra and the others. Just promise me you won’t try to get up?”

Elden eventually slept again, but he was restless, tossing and turning in his sleep. It was aggravating, having to simply sit and watch him suffer. Dorian did what he could to reassure Elden whenever he would wake, but the terror never truly seemed to leave him. He was so sure they could be attacked at any moment and honestly Dorian couldn't help but share his fears.

-

Elden was in agony, every step towards consciousness only intensifying it. There was a burning pain in the pit of his stomach, it felt like he had been set on fire on the inside. He groaned, curling in on himself, somehow feeling too hot and too cold at the same time. He opened his eyes, trying to take stalk of where he was. He recognized the tent, the snow still flying heavily outside as his memory slowly returned to him. Movement caught his attention and he turned to look directly into the face of a despair demon.

It loomed over him, but for some reason didn’t attack. It simply watched him, and this close Elden could see rows of sharp teeth under the hood. It hissed something, a clawed hand extending out to him and that was enough to jolt Elden back to what was happening, what this mean.

“Where’s--” he said, panic mounting as he flinched away from the demon. “Where is everyone? What have you done to them?”

The thing hissed again, grabbing his shoulder and Elden mustered whatever strength he had left in him to shove it away, to scramble towards the exit of the tent, screaming Dorian’s name. Had they been attacked? Had the demons taken everyone by surprise, slaughtered everyone? He felt numb with terror, and futility as well, knowing he’d never make it. And even if he could get away, he’d be no use to his friends. He could barely stand, how could he possibly hold a sword and fight back?

Clawed hands wrapped around him from behind, dragging him back and it was all he could do not to sob. Not at his own impending fate, but that of his friends, knowing this had all happened because of him. There was that voice again, reminding him that there was no escape, that this attempt had cost him the lives of his friends. She would take him apart bit by bit, until death would be a mercy. This is what he deserved. He should have died long ago, then at least Dorian and the others might have been spared.

He was much too weak, his struggling pointless, but there was still one thing he could do, one way he might be able to strike back before there was nothing left of him. For his friends.

-

Dorian had no idea what was happening. One moment Elden had been staring around as he slowly regained consciousness, eyes glassy and unfocussed. Then, suddenly, he flinched away.

“Where is everyone? What have you done to them?”

He cried out Dorian’s name as if he wasn’t sitting there beside him, scrambling out of the tent, and Dorian was all too aware that he could easily strain himself further, tear his stitches again and risk bleeding out. He moved forward and wrapped his arms around Elden and hauled him back. Elden cried out Dorian’s name again and the desperation there broke Dorian’s heart. He ended up with Elden practically in a headlock in his lap.

“Elden, you’re fine, it’s--”

But then Elden managed to free his left hand, raising it into the air. With a horrible crack, the green energy of the anchor shot out, ripping through the tent, tearing into the cliffside beyond. Snow and debris showered down around them and Dorian wrenched him to the side, trying to shield him with his own body as he threw a barrier up around them both. He could feel a jolt as stones hit his shield and glanced aside, tearing a few holes in the tent, but at least neither of them were harmed. There was a commotion in the camp, panicked shouts as everyone tried to assess what was happening, if they were under attack.

Dorian had a good enough grip and Elden’s struggling was so weak that he released one hand, bringing it up to cover his eyes. He tried to soothe him with quiet words as he released his magic, slowly letting sleep overcome him, but his words seemed to have no effect. At least his magic did. As Elden finally went limp in his arms, Dorian sighed. Cassandra ran, calling out to them, and Dorian raised a hand gesturing to her that it was fine now. Well, as fine as things could be given the situation.

How had all of this gone so spectacularly wrong? Whatever this was, what if he lost Elden to it? He’d been tormented and abused and Dorian hadn’t been able to stop it. Would he fail to save him even now as well? He ran his fingers through Elden’s hair feeling more hopeless and terrified than he’d ever been.


	7. Chapter 7

By some miracle no one had been seriously injured when Elden had blown a hole in the side of the mountain. He'd opened rifts before, but never this big or located inside a wall of stone and the destruction was impressive. For the most part, the camp wasn't in chaos any longer, but that certainly didn't mean it had calmed down.

Everyone was on edge, at a loss for what to do, the number of scouts keeping watch doubled in case the noise had drawn any unwanted attention. Everyone was either upset or angry or both. For his part, Dorian was focussing on the fury. It was easier than the fear and hopelessness or the way his hands shook. Dorian crossed his arms tightly over his chest, hoping no one would notice.

It was all impotent rage, of course. It's not like he could do anything with it, no enemies to set fire to, no idea who he was even supposed to be fighting here as Elden deteriorated more and more with no obvious cause. The Inquisitor was asleep at the moment thanks to his magic, but there was no telling if he'd see them as enemies or not the next time he woke. That was the worst of it, really. Dorian would never forget the way he had looked at him; there was no recognition there, only terror and despair.

"Well, if it's not magic, what else could it be?" Cassandra, frustration evident in her voice.

"If I knew that," Dorian said, unable to stop himself from snapping. "Then we wouldn't be in this situation, now would we? Regardless of whatever they did to him, he doesn't seem to be under the influence of any spell at the moment."

"And how can you be so sure?" Blackwall asked skeptically.

Dorian bristled at the comment but Vivienne cut in before he could come up with a suitably scathing reply. Probably for the best. As upset as Dorian was, as much as he wanted something to lash out against, his allies shouldn't be it.

"Darling, we're as sure as we can be, given the situation. Honestly it would be better if the Inquisitor were somehow under the control of this Ventori. Then at least we'd know what was happening and we might be able to use it against her."

"Well, then, good talk," Dorian said, unable to handle the atmosphere any longer. "Let me know when we actually have a plan. Until then-"

Cole, who had been lurking nearby, stepped forward suddenly, shoulders hunched as he spoke. "Fear of falling, fighting to keep back the darkness. But the darkness is inside."

"Well, of course it's on the inside," Dorian said irritably. "That's the problem, we don't know how she's getting in his head."

"I'm not sure that's what he means," Varric said. He'd been quiet till now, presumably deep in thought. "There's one thing that could be causing this. Red lyrium. It takes what people already are and twists it. My brother Bartrand, he was always a greedy bastard, but it drove him to try to kill his own blood. He locked Hawke and myself in a tomb and left us to die."

"Do you honestly expect any of us to believe Elden might turn on us for the promise of gold?" Dorian said with a humorless laugh. "Whatever's happening, it certainly isn't that. He didn't even recognize me."

"No, but it's different for each person. We've all seen the way the Inquisitor agonizes over every decision. He's terrified he isn't good enough and takes every failure, every death, personally. Dorian, you and I already witnessed him struggling with that. Maybe that had nothing to do with lyrium, it's possible all of this is just getting to him, but hearing things? Seeing things? Hallucinations are the next step. If just being around it drove Bartrand to murder. I can't imagine what it's doing to Elden on the inside."

They all fell silent then. Dorian desperately wanted to believe it wasn't true, but what else could it be? There were no other options. And of course there was so much red lyrium in the area, they wouldn't be able to sense it inside Elden himself. Dorian for his part had had a migraine ever since approaching the mountains and he imagined it was the same for Vivienne.

"When I found him," Dorian said slowly. "A corrupted templar was standing over him. If one of those things had been the one to injure him, a piece of red lyrium could have broken off inside of him."

He tried to hide the shudder that went through him at imagining it, at what Elden must be going through. It was ripping him apart from the inside, both body and mind alike. Lyrium poisoning at the best of times was deadly, but red lyrium? Could he even still be saved? Would there be anything left of the man Dorian knew when this was over, if he was even still alive? And if it had already taken root, would he become one of those abominations? He remembered that terrible future he and Elden had visited, how red lyrium had grown out and around Fiona and infected Leliana and the others. There had been no saving them.

"I've seen what this can do," Varric said. "We need to get it out of him immediately."

"And if it's not that?" Cassandra asked. "What if there's nothing to be found and we risk him bleeding out for nothing?"

"We need to get him back to Skyhold," Blackwall said. "We can't do anything for him here."

"I fear we may not have the time," Vivienne said. "If Varric is right, we must take the risk and remove it immediately."

"Madame Vivienne, pardon me," a scout said as she hurriedly approached. She looked grim but determined. "I have some experience training with the surgeon back at Skyhold, I've removed shrapnel before and I have medical supplies."

"Very well, then," Vivienne said. "Once finished, we'll need to get him back to Skyhold for proper treatment. We will need to be extremely careful, otherwise he might not make it."

"I'll take some scouts, see if I can find the best way down," Blackwall said.

"Then let's begin," Vivienne said. "Dorian, my dear, we'll need you to restrain him."

Dorian swallowed hard and nodded. Not that he didn't want to participate; on the contrary, he'd force his way into the tent regardless, he just wasn't looking forward to what needed to be done, no matter how necessary it was. Elden had been terrified, fearing for his life and the lives of his friends. If he wakes now, he might think he's being tortured all over again. Dorian had told him he'd help him, that he would protect him, but there was nothing else for it.

Dorian entered the tent and took a seat behind Elden, lifting his head gently into his lap. He was still asleep and Dorian caressed his cheek, wishing there was more he could do, that he could have prevented all of this from happening. There was only so much Dorian could do to keep him asleep with magic and he had a feeling the pain Elden was about to experience would make it ineffective, so he took a strap from his robe, placing it between Elden's teeth to bite down on. He then took Elden's arms, raising them above his head and holding them securely so he couldn't lash out as Vivienne and the scout took their places.

Dorian wasn't squeamish in the least; honestly he usually found it all rather fascinating; he'd become a necromancer for a reason, after all. But seeing Elden in agony as they cut into him was too much, he had to look away. He leaned low over Elden at the first surprised gasp of pain, whispering praise and encouragement, telling him it would be over soon, not even sure he could understand. Elden struggled weakly at first, but the cries of pain finally quieted when he past out from it. Dorian wasn't particularly experienced with healing magic, but he poured everything he had into Elden, assisting Vivienne in keeping him stable.

"Please stay with me," he begged, voice barely a whisper, eyes stinging with tears.

"Got it!"

When the scout removed the shard of red lyrium, Dorian wasn't sure what to feel. He was relieved it was out, of course, that they had some idea what was happening, but there was still so much irreparable harm it could have done over all this time. He shivered, imagining what Elden has been going through while they all simply sat by and let it happened. He'd seen what lyrium had done to templars, leaving them with failing memories and barely able to function, there was no telling how Elden would be or if he could fully recover.

Dorian was exhausted, no magic left in him, by the time they had Elden stitched up again. They were left alone and Dorian laid down beside him, wondering if this was where it would all end. He wasn't sure if he could ever make any of this right, or if Elden would even want him at his side after everything that had happened between them, but one thing was certain; all of this had only reaffirmed how much Dorian cared for this man and, if there was no objection, he would be there for Elden no matter the state he was in. He wouldn't abandon him again. However long was left, Elden would be comfortable and taken care of.


	8. Chapter 8

Dorian had only meant to close his eyes for a moment, to rest and regain some of his energy, but he must have fallen asleep. Cassandra calling out to the camp, announcing that they were nearly prepared to head out, jolted him awake. He sat up, his head already pounding with the telltale signs of using too much magic too quickly adding to the ache he'd already had from being around red lyrium. He rubbed his sore eyes before turning to study Elden.

His breathing was still shallow and quick and he was still so pale and ashen. It was terrifying, seeing him like this. It was as if he was fading away before his very eyes. Elden was a leader despite his anxieties. He was strong and commanding but he was kind as well, willing to make himself vulnerable before those he cares about. To see him end up like this, everything stripped away piece by piece through this unbearable torture— it was too cruel.

This man risked everything every day for their cause, could this really be how it ended for him? Elden deserved so much better than the hand he had been dealt. And as selfish as it was, Dorian desperately didn't want to lose him. Not now, not ever.

He'd been selfish from the beginning though, endangering the Inquisition through their relationship, and he'd been selfish when he'd decided to end things between them no matter what he'd told himself to justify his actions. But Elden deserved to live, damnit. He was a good man, he'd been through too much, it couldn't end here, it simply couldn't.

Dorian had been holding Elden's hand tightly and as he slipped it free, Elden's eyes slowly opened. They were unfocused and glassy and Dorian wasn't even positive he knew he was there. Despite being free of the lyrium, he looks so much worse, exhaustion taking everything from him.

"No," he said looking terrified, trying to move, but all he could do was turn his head away. "Please not this again. You're not really here."

"Do you know who I am?" Dorian asked.

"You're supposed to be Dorian."

"Good, that's good," Dorian said feeling somewhat relieved. Maybe he was on the mend after all. Or was that just wishful thinking? But then Elden spoke again and it broke Dorian's heart completely.

"Please, just kill me, I can't take it any longer," he begged, tears welling up in his eyes.

Dorian could feel tears springing into his own eyes and he cupped Elden's face in his hands as he leaned over him. "I'm so sorry." He took a moment to collect himself, fighting to keep his voice even. "If this were true, if I was really here, would you trust me?"

Elden looked at him with hollow eyes devoid of hope but at least he nodded.

"Then please believe me when I tell you that this isn't an illusion and no one will lay a hand on you again while I breathe. You're safe now, I'm going to get you out of here."

Elden nodded reluctantly, trying to blink his eyes into focus and Dorian smiled encouragingly at him.

"Good man. Hang on just a little longer for me, will you?"

Elden's eyes fell closed again and he slipped into unconsciousness. Dorian sat there for a long moment more, aching for Elden, a tear sliding down his cheek despite himself. It was agony seeing Elden like this and being unable to do anything to ease his suffering.

"Please. Hold on."

How many times had Dorian repeated that? But then, he'd continue to say it over and over again. Maybe that was selfish too, maybe it would be better to let Elden finally rest, but he couldn't. He wouldn't stop fighting for him. Despite everything, Elden had never once given up on him and Dorian wanted to do the same.

Footsteps crunching in the snow outside the tent drew Dorian's attention and he quickly wiped his face as Cassandra entered. She had a makeshift litter to more easily drag Elden through the snow on and they prepared to move him. Dorian remained crouched at Elden's side during all of this, reluctant to part from him but knowing he couldn't hold his hand while they walked.

-

Trudging back down the mountain was just as miserable as climbing up had been. Perhaps even moreso now that they had to ensure no one went tumbling head over heels down steep slopes. Dorian stuck close to Elden's litter, glancing over at him constantly as if seeing him might provide some sort of comfort. He was still breathing which eased his anxieties somewhat, but still unconscious and clearly in pain. This was the safest and smoothest way to transport him, but every jostle had Dorian holding his breath at the way the Inquisitor winced.

When the warning cry went up that red templars had been spotted, he wasn't all that surprised. He wasn't proud of it, he should have been focusing on Elden's safety, but the fury he'd been stoking through all of this flared to life and he readied his staff. Finally he could take a little revenge on the Inquisitor's behalf. None of them would ever lay a hand on him again. They were under the cover of the trees now, on more or less even terrain, so they pulled in close and prepared for the fight.

-

Elden didn't know where he was or what was happening; it was all just a chaotic blur of agony. There were brief glimpses of Dorian through it all and he knew it could very well be another illusion, more visions from the Venatori to manipulate him, but Elden still couldn't help but hold onto it tightly, like a lifeline. Truth be told, hearing Dorian's voice, feeling his hand holding his own, was likely the only thing getting him through this. He was just so tired, but Dorian had asked him to hold on and how could he not at least try?

He had felt like he'd been on fire, something deep within him trying to crawl its way out, but that was gone now, replaced with a different kind of burning pain that made him long for unconsciousness. But then he felt something cold and wet land on his face, rousing him. Snow, he realized, as he strained to open his eyes, the world a blur of color and shapes, the sound suddenly coming into focus as well.

What he had thought was the pounding of the blood through his skull was actually the clash of weapons and the commotion around him. He watched with rising horror as he saw red templars all around, locked in combat with his companions, with his friends. They were fighting for their lives, holding their own for now, but how long until that changed? Would he be forced to watch them all die again?

This was all happening because of him. He had to do something, anything. It was a struggle simply to sit up, the entire world spinning around him and his side burning in agony. He tried to drag himself away but faltered, leaning back against a tree as he looked around for something, anything he could do to help. If he ran, maybe he could lead them away from his friends, but how far could he make it in his current state?

And that's when he saw her.

The Venatori, her long greying hair tied back and a cruel smile on her lips, striding towards him. Elden couldn't breathe, couldn't move. He pressed back against the tree as if he could burrow inside of it, feeling himself shaking as he cast around for something, anything that might help him.

But there was no helping him. If she wanted something done, it would be done and there was no resisting it. She had mercilessly taken him apart, piece by piece, and she would do it again until she was done with him and then he would die and he would be grateful for it. That was the only certainty now. This was his world and there was no escaping. He'd wanted so desperately to believe Dorian, that he could be free, safe, but there really was no hope. There was no escape.

Someone stepped in front of him, blocking the Venatori's path to Elden's astonishment and confusion. How could anyone stand against her? But when he finally managed to drag his eyes up, he saw it was Dorian, expression one of rage and determination, staff at the ready, and Elden felt frozen to his core at the sight, feeling as if the ground had been pulled out from under him. He tried to call out but his voice wouldn't work. He needed to stop Dorian because there was no preventing this, there was no saving him from the Venatori, but of course none of that mattered to Dorian, he would try regardless. That was just who Dorian was. He couldn't die here, for Elden and his foolishness.

Elden truly had messed everything up, dragging down his friends and now he was going to get them all killed and he was too useless to stop it.

Suddenly Cassandra came barrelling out of nowhere, her shield colliding hard with the Venatori from behind, knocking her to the ground. The Venatori recovered too quickly, reaching for her fallen staff, but an arrow from Varric knocked it away. Cassandra was still advancing and Dorian took advantage of the momentary distraction Varric had created by freezing the Venatori in place, preventing her from dodging as Cassandra ran her through.

Elden simply stared in shock, unable to truly comprehend what had just happened as Cassandra pulled her sword free, crimson splattering across the snow as the Venatori collapsed, lying still. But then Dorian was kneeling before him.

Dorian was okay, he was alive, they all were. Elden was curled in on himself, shaking violently despite himself, and he tried to reach out, to touch Dorian, to prove to himself that this really could be happening.

"I said I'd get you out of here, didn't I?" Dorian took his hand and smiled softly at him.

A sob escaped Elden and he doubled over, leaning into Dorian, feeling arms wrap around him, holding him close. Elden tried focusing on the warmth, on the proof that Dorian was still alive. He repeated to himself over and over again that they were alive, they were free from the Venatori. She couldn't hurt them any longer.


	9. Chapter 9

The Venatori was dead. That knowledge should have been more satisfying than it was. In the end, however, it still left them here, with Elden still wounded, shivering violently and fading fast with no guarantee of survival and all Dorian could do was wrap him protectively in his arms. He just hoped that Elden could find some measure of peace, knowing that the person who had done this to him was dead and could never harm him again, for whatever that was worth. 

For Dorian’s part, he wouldn’t find peace until they were back at Skyhold with Elden on the mend and he wouldn’t accept anything less. He would not lose Elden, not now, not when they were so close. And if death was inevitable, Dorian wasn’t going to give in without a fight. He could feel Elden going slack in his arms, still trembling, so he picked him up as gently as he could and carried him back to the stretcher. He laid him down, pulling off his own cloak to drape over Elden before checking his pulse. It was there, if faint, thank the Maker. 

The battle wasn’t over yet, more red templars were already arriving and Dorian knew they had to get out of there. Every second they were held up might be Elden’s last. As he surveyed the scene, Cassandra suddenly appeared as his side, taking the rope tied to the litter. With her dragging Elden, Dorian was free to blaze a trail, quite literally as he let loose a fireball into a cluster of red templars. They broke through the line as they charged ahead, Dorian feeling a pang of guilt as the majority of their little group remained behind to cover their retreat. 

It wasn’t enough though. The templars just kept coming, breaking through the ranks of their allies and giving chase. Dorian paused long enough to get a shot off, causing spikes of ice to shoot up out of the ground, skewering a few  templars. But then the sound of rustling branches in the tree above startled him and he spun around, hand already wreathed in fire, barely stopping himself in time when Sera dropped to the ground beside him. 

“Maker, Sera, you’re going to give me a heart attack. Maybe this isn’t the best time to sneak up on me.”

“Yeah, good to see you too, where’ve you been?” 

“We got a bit held up,” Dorian said.

“Tell us when we’re back at Skyhold,” Bull shouted as he and the others that had been separated from them since rescuing Elden ran past him and Dorian was fairly certain he’d never been so relieved to see them all.

As they positioned themselves on the path, ready to receive the templars, Dorian turned and sprinted after Cassandra and Elden and the scouts still with them. When he caught up, Elden looked so pale. Dorian felt like he couldn’t breath as he begged the Maker and anyone else who might be listening not to take him, not now, not yet. And when Skyhold finally came into view, Dorian couldn’t even bring himself to feel relief, knowing that he could still lose Elden even without the threat of templars.

Skyhold erupted into chaos the moment they crossed the gate, confusion and fear at the sight of the Inquisitor, but Dorian hardly paid them any mind. He was vaguely aware of Cassandra yelling commands, preparing to go back out there to assist their friends.The rest of them didn’t even stop, several soldiers simply heaving the makeshift litter up onto their shoulders so they could carry Elden inside. Dorian followed close behind. No one tried to turn him away and he wasn’t sure if his determination showed or if they were all simply in too much of a hurry to even notice his presence. 

-

To Dorian, it felt like he had been sitting there in the corner of Elden’s room for hours and still nothing was certain. Someone had come by at some point to see to his own wounds, and while he had tried to wave them away, he hadn’t had the energy to really put up a fight. He let them do their job, as pointless as it was. He only had a few cuts, some patches of skin on his face and arm that had been exposed to the elements too long, burned red and blistering from the cold. It would have healed on its own given time.

Dorian’s eyes never left Elden’s bed. He could barely see him through the cluster of healers around him but he kept straining to catch a glimpse. He wasn’t sure if he expected to see Elden lying there, ashen, no longer breathing, or completely well, smiling at him as if nothing had happened. 

Vivienne arrived at some point, taking charge of the healers who came and went despite how drained she looked. No doubt the others who had stayed behind to fight were back as well but Dorian couldn’t leave as much as he wanted to assure himself that they were alive. He couldn’t leave Elden.

It took Dorian by surprise when the healers filed out, leaving him and Vivienne alone with Elden. He stood and approached slowly, his breath catching in his throat, terrified of what he might see. Elden was alive, lying shirtless on his bed, nothing evident externally to indicate the trauma he had been through. And yet he was so still, his chest barely rising and falling with his shallow breaths.

Was this it? After everything Elden had suffered, would he truly die here, slipping away in complete silence? He’d always known that not everyone would be getting out of this war alive, but not like this, not consumed from the inside, mind and body, left empty and still until he simply wasted away. It was too cruel. Elden was so full of life, he was good and kind and never deserved so much better than this. 

“There was more damage than expected,” she said. “We’ve done all we can, all that’s left is to wait.”

Dorian nodded, feeling numb. “Go rest, I’ll watch him for a time.”

Perhaps Vivienne knew arguing was pointless or she was simply too tired because she left him there, staring down at Elden. The door had barely closed when the tears began to fall. It wasn’t fair. Life never was, though. It kept taking the good out of the world, first Felix and now possibly even Elden. And once again Dorian was left to helplessly watch as the people he cared for most, that deserved life and happiness more than anyone, slowly wasted away. There was fury and rage, but it gave way to a hopeless emptiness as he took Elden’s hand, holding it tightly as he curled in on himself, shaking in silent sobs. 

-

Dorian never left Elden’s side if he could help it. The inner circle stopped by to see Elden from time to time, for whatever good that would do, and the healers had scheduled visits throughout the day and night so he wasn’t exactly needed there, but he didn’t care. Servants brought him food that Dorian often forgot to eat and Varric brought him his documents containing everything he knew about red lyrium, everything he’d learned trying to cure his brother. It wasn’t even certain that the notes would be relevant since Elden was human, not dwarven, but at least it was something for Dorian to do. 

The healers were keeping him stable, but there was no guarantee he’d ever regain consciousness, that his mind and body could ever properly recover from the damage the corruption had caused. A week had past when Elden’s eyes finally opened. Dorian hadn’t even noticed at first, so intent on the book he was reading, but slight movement caught his attention and his heart felt like it might stop, feeling relief and apprehension in equal measure. 

“Do you know who I am?” he asked, trying to hide the urgency and desperation in his voice as Elden turned to look at him.   
  
“Dorian?” Elden said in confusion and Dorian wasn’t entirely sure if that was due to uncertainty of the answer or simply a reaction to the odd question.   
  
“Do you know where we are?” Dorian asked next, feeling hopeful despite himself. He could speak, he was aware, surely these were good signs. He sat forward and took Elden’s hand, book forgotten as it fell to the floor.   
  
Elden glanced at the room before answering. “Skyhold. We made it.” He closed his eyes with a relieved sigh before his eyes shot open again and he looked to Dorian again in concern. “What about the others? Are they--”

“All fine,” Dorian soothed. 

It was just like Elden to worry about others despite the state he was in and honestly that did wonders to reassure Dorian. The relief he felt was profound and he sighed, letting out a breath he felt like he had been holding for years, silently whispering a prayer of thanks as he lowered his head suddenly feeling exhausted, bringing a hand up to wipe at his aching eyes. 

Dorian had imagined so many different scenarios of how this could have played out; Elden trapped in a nightmare forever, seeing friends as demons, or perhaps he would simply be empty, no spark behind those bright green eyes, unable to speak or function on his own. But he was awake and aware and Dorian couldn’t be more overjoyed. No doubt Elden was thirsty as well. He helped him sit up enough to press a potion to his lips before laying him down again. 

“I imagine, by the end of this, we’re all going to be sick of the taste of elfroot,” Dorian joked, the silence getting to him. Elden looked completely exhausted, the simple movement leaving him wrecked, so Dorian pulled the blanks up and tucked him back in. “Sleep. I’ll be here when you wake next.”

It looked as though Elden might say something, but he was simply too tired and quickly fell asleep. Dorian was left with his thoughts, which he was growing increasingly tired of. Now that he felt hopeful for Elden’s condition, he couldn’t help but think of other things. Like whether or not he had any right to be here now, to see Elden like this. They weren’t in a relationship any longer, did he have any right to stay at his side? Would Elden even want him nearby?

Although Dorian supposed he would gladly accept Elden figuratively casting him out of his room if it meant he was well enough to do so. Not that Elden ever would. He was much too kind. And right now, he was still weak and Dorian had no plans to leave him alone. Elden had wanted him there before and Dorian wouldn’t go as long as that still might be the case. And someone needed to keep an eye on him.

-

A cold breeze prickled at Dorian’s skin, rousing him where he had fallen asleep in the chair at the inquisitor’s bedside. He shivered, trying to remember if he’d left a window open, but as he sat up, his gaze fell on the empty bed and he froze. Panicked, he was on his feet in an instant, looking wildly around. He spotted Elden standing there on the balcony which was a relief, but he was so still it was unsettling. 

Dorian was at his side in mere moments, gently taking Elden’s arm and leading him back into the room, closing and locking the balcony just to be safe. Elden hadn't looked as though he’d planned to jump, but Dorian had no intention of risking it, not with memories of Elden standing on the cliff’s edge so fresh in his mind. Besides, Elden’s skin was cold to the touch, a startling contrast to the burning fever he’d had so far. 

“Let’s get you back to bed, shall we?” Dorian suggested. Elden looked dazed and barely seemed to comprehend what he was saying. “You really shouldn’t be out for a stroll, you know. I’ve never seen a patient so determined to tear their stitches. You best be careful or Vivienne might not sew you up next time.”

“Is this real?” Elden asked, looking more through him than at him. “Did I really get away?”

“Yes,” Dorian said as soothingly as he could. “She’s dead, remember? She can’t hurt you anymore.”

“I thought— I thought I was back there. I don’t—“

He looked so lost and confused. All Dorian could do was put an arm around him and guide him into bed. “It’ll be alright, you’re safe, you just need to rest.”

“And you’ll be here when I wake up?”

“Yes,” Dorian said, before second guessing himself, worrying that that might not have been the answer he’d wanted. “If you want me to be, that is?” 

“Please,” Elden whispered, his eyes already sliding closed as if they were far too heavy to remain open a second longer. “I’m scared, what if this is the dream?”

“Shh, I know,” Dorian said, bundling Elden in blankets, using his magic to warn the room again. He took Elden’s hand and held it tightly between both of his. “You’re safe now. No one can hurt you now. Just rest.” 

-

In the morning, when the healers arrived, Elden was in good health, seeming alert and present to all of their relief. After so long terrified and on edge, Dorian felt like he could collapse. When had he last gotten a full night’s sleep? He couldn’t bring himself to believe it was all truly fine, however. What if there was some other complication? What if the red lyrium had taken hold after all and suddenly reappeared?

But despite everything, Elden was looking healthier and gone was the confusion from last night. Perhaps it had simply been nightmares confusing him. Up until now, Dorian had been at the edge of the bed, holding Elden’s hand tightly in his own, but now he sat back farther, giving Elden space despite the way he desperately wanted to reach out to him, touch him. That wasn’t his place any longer. It took him some time but eventually, once they were left alone again, he finally brought himself to speak.

“Can I stay?” Dorian asked, sounding uncharacteristically uncertain even to his own ears.    
  
“Do you want to stay?” Elden asked, his expression frustratingly hard to read.   
  
“It’s a simple question,” Dorian said, irritably getting the better of him. “Surely you can answer with a yes or a no instead of turning it back on me.”   
  
“Of course I do, but not if you don’t want to be here.” Elden said, his expression earnest and how could Dorian be annoyed with him for that? “Won’t you tell me what you want? Do  _ you  _ want to stay?”   
  
The careful mask Dorian always wore broke and Elden could see all of the fear and desperation and sadness he had tried so hard to keep hidden all this time.    
  
“Yes,” Dorian whispered. Elden reached out to him and he took his hand and Dorian felt guilty for it. “I’m sorry, this is all my fault.”   
  
“What? How could any of this possibly be your fault?” Elden asked looking genuinely confused.

“Our conversation, before you left,” Dorian said, unable to look him in the eye. “You wouldn’t have been distracted if it wasn’t for my poor timing.”   
  
“My, you do think highly of yourself,” Elden said, but it was a joke and he was smiling fondly at him.

“Have you met me? I assure you I have good reason,” Dorian said, but it was his usual deflection and he knew it wouldn’t fool Elden for a moment. “If not that, then would you care to tell me what happened?”   
  
“It was a foolish mistake. We were actually planning on traveling that way anyway to investigate the red templar sightings. But I found tracks and foolishly followed them. I may have been too preoccupied to realize how dangerous that was, but that’s hardly your fault. I had plenty to fret over with the endless stream of meetings with the advisors. And perhaps I was trying to prove to myself that I could handle it alone.”

Elden looked away guiltily and Dorian remembered everything he had said while injured, so terrified of failure, of letting the Inquisition down, so sure he had no right to lead them. Dorian hated that there was so little he could do to help, but he could at least keep Elden from dwelling.

“Honestly, you have nothing to prove, but I must admit, now that I know the truth I’m a touch disappointed this isn’t about me after all,” Dorian joked, pleased when Elden pushed him playfully and Dorian couldn’t help but chuckle.    
  
“So what do we do now?” Elden asked.   
  
“I’m not sure. I expected you to be more angry than you seem,” Dorian admitted.   
  


Elden was silent for a moment, staring at their hands linked together. “Would you tell me why?”

They needed to have that conversation sooner or later, might as well get it out of the way.

“For that I definitely owe you an apology,” Dorian said with a sign. “The truth is, I lied. I was afraid the rumors were growing out of control.”   
  
“I told you, I don’t care about them.”   
  
“But I do. I’d never be able to forgive myself if it ruined your reputation.”   
  
“They’re going to find a reason to hate me matter what I do.” Elden said. Dorian knew it was true but it was just so infuriating. Elden was good and kind and did more than anyone in this war and yet still people were looking for any reason to turn on him. “Maybe what we should have done was put out our own rumors, about how the Inquisitor is incredibly weak and the only reason the Inquisition has made it this far is because of his friends, especially a certain Tevinter mage who keeps helping him pick himself up every time he falls apart.”   
  
“No need to depreciate yourself on my account,” Dorian said with a sad smile.

“It’s the truth, though. I-- I just wish you’d talked to me about it.”   
  
“I know, I should have.” Dorian said quietly.

“And I understand why. I might have felt the same if our positions had been reversed and I can’t fault you for that. I just miss you. Just do me a favor, even if you don’t want this, don’t push me away. Your friendship means a lot to me.”   
  
Dorian laughed weakly. “I didn’t realize any of that was still an option.”

“As long as you talk to me about what’s bothering you,” Elden said. “You’ve been there every step of the way for me, but I want to be there for you as well.”   
  
“You already have been. Too much, I fear. That’s the problem here after all.”   
  
“I’ve done nothing,” Elden said with a little laugh.   
  
“Says the Lord Inquisitor,” Dorian said but he sighed, looking at Elden seriously. “I just don’t understand. How can this be so simple for you? How can I possibly deserve any sort of second chance?”   
  
“Dorian, I’m anxious all the time, everything in my life is complicated. But when I’m with you? All of that is quieter. I can finally hear myself think for once and all I want to think about is you. I like being around you, I like making you laugh and seeing you smile. If you don’t— if you don’t feel the same, I won’t fault you for it. we can end things here, go back to being friends. But if you do, then I want to try. I want to be at your side and I want to see where this goes, you and I. I know the journey won’t be easy, it never is, we will both have to work hard at it, but I think it could be worth it. But more than anything I want you to be happy, and if walking away will do that then it’s what I’ll do. But making yourself do something that will make you unhappy will only leave us both miserable.”

Dorian had to cover his face, to try to compose himself. How could he possibly deserve this man? He always did have a habit of sabotaging himself. Rebelling back in school, against his father. Then there was his inevitable fight with Alexius, pushing his mentor and subsequently Felix, his only friend, out of his life. 

When he’d come south, he’d promised himself he would do the right thing, he’d be better and he’d make a difference. But once again, when happiness was within his grasp, he’d pushed Elden away, ruining the only relationship that had ever felt like this, that had ever been so real. Elden was much too good to offer him a second chance. Dorian could simply hurt them both all over again. 

“I’m certainly not blameless here either,” Elden continued. “I should have insisted we talk, I knew something had been bothering you, but I was afraid. So I left without a word.”

“No,” Dorian said, hating the idea that Elden might blame himself for this. “I didn’t exactly leave things open for a conversation.”

“We’re supposed to be in this together, remember?” Elden said too earnestly. “We’re on the same side.”

“You are right, of course,” Dorian said, rubbing at his face. “I fear I’m at a loss, because as selfish as it is, I don’t want to walk away again. Where do we go from here?”

“How about you come up here and get some rest,” Elden said with a fond smile. “We can talk more after we’ve both rested.”

With his urging, Dorian crawled onto the bed. Elden curled against him, keeping his hand held tightly in his own. Having Elden’s familiar warm weight against him was such a  relief. He knew things weren’t back to normal, they still had a long way to go, but the fact that Elden didn’t hate him was more than he had hoped for. He knew he’d made a mess of things, he knew he had hurt Elden and betrayed his confidence. He would make it up to him, he would do what he should have from the beginning, stay by his side through all of this and make sure he could still smile by the end of it. And he’d make sure Elden was never hurt again.

“Maybe I’ll have Leliana see what she can do about the rumors. And I’ll have her send you a list of everything she’s heard about you too.” Elden said suddenly, taking him by surprise.

“Why exactly would I want that?” Dorian asked.   
  
“It’s not all bad. In fact, it’s mostly positive. The majority seem to find our relationship sweet.”   
  
“Me? The evil Tevinter Magister? Sweet? That’s certainly a new one.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone,” Elden said with a sleepy yawn. “Will you still be here when I wake up?”

“Of course,” Dorian said, kissing the back of Elden’s hand and threading his fingers through his hair. 

He paused, contemplating the weight of his words. There was so much to be said, so much to do. There was regret and affection and reassurances, but how could he ever put it all into words? How could he convey his sincerity? It would never be enough, would it? Instead, he would do everything in his power to show him all he felt until there was no doubt left in Elden’s mind that he was treasured. As Elden’s breathing slowed in sleep, Dorian whispered a single word, hoping desperately to convey at least a fraction of everything he felt. 

“Amatus.” 

The corner of Elden’s lips twitched up into a slight smile. He knew the significance of the word, all it represented to Dorian. It was terrifying how well Elden knew him, to be honest. But then, Dorian wouldn’t have it any other way. It was comforting, in a way. Regardless, Dorian would call him his beloved until the end of time if possible. There were still doubts and fears, things in his past that couldn’t so easily be banished and this horrible certainty that they weren’t all getting out of this alive. But they were in this together. And Dorian never wanted to let him go again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading, this took such a long time to write I really appreciate your patience!


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bonus chapter?

It was a relief, being able to sit here beside Elden, feeling his warmth, no longer feverishly hot, their hands clasped together. Even now that he was conscious and on the mend, Dorian was still reluctant to leave his side. Despite Elden’s healing body, he seemed haunted, sleeping more than anything, waking in the middle of the night from nightmares, sometimes shaking in Dorian’s arms for hours after. 

He rarely spoke about what he had been through and Dorian was hesitant to pry further. Perhaps he was treading too carefully, wanting to be there for Elden but not sure what was too much. They may have made up, but Dorian wasn’t completely sure where that left them and didn’t want to press too far too quickly. Perhaps he was overthinking this, but he just wanted to do what was right, what Elden needed, instead of what Dorian wanted.

Today seemed to be a particularly bad day. Elden had barely eaten anything and simply slept or perhaps pretended to sleep all day. Dorian simply sat beside him and watched over him, not sure what else to do. When he did finally wake, Dorian at least made sure he drank some water. Elden seemed reluctant to sit up, but once handed the glass of water he drank it down greedily. 

“How are you feeling?” Dorian asked rather lamely.

“Sorry,” Elden said, not making eye contact. “I guess I’m just stuck in my head today.”

“Hey,” Dorian lifted his chin gently until he raised his eyes, brushing the back of his fingers across his cheek. “You have nothing to apologize for.”

Elden leaned into the touch, his eyes falling closed. He leaned against Dorian’s side, taking his arm and holding onto him as if he feared he might fall. 

“I can’t hear her voice anymore,” Elden confided eventually. “But she was preying off of my own fears. I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to forget the things she said. Or stop myself believing them.”

Dorian’s chest ached at that and he turned enough to pull Elden more tightly against his chest, running his free hand through Elden’s hair. He desperately wanted to say something, to banish those fears, but what could he possibly say? How could he reassure Elden, get him to see himself as Dorian, as everyone saw him?

“You are a good man,” Dorian said, placing a kiss at his temple. “And you’re doing just fine. Nothing she said was true.”

“I never told you everything she said,” Elden argued, but he didn’t try to pull away.

“Perhaps not, but I know you and I’ve seen at least some of what you’ve struggled with. But if there’s something specific you’re concerned with--”

Elden was quiet for a long while, long enough that Dorian thought he might not speak at all, fidgeting with the blanket as if it might hold all the answers he wanted. When he finally did speak, his voice was soft, his words hesitant as if he wasn’t sure he should be speaking at all.

“She made me relive every failure, every disappointment. To see them all spread out in front of me like that-- I’m afraid to even try to recount them all. Then everyone might see that she was right, that I can’t-- that I’m not--”

Elden’s voice broke and Dorian held him more tightly against him. “That’s enough of that,” he said. “We all have failures in our lives, but you have successes as well. You can’t have one without the other.”

“I fear the failures far outweigh the successes.”

“Elden, in the short while I’ve known you, you’ve managed to do amazing things. The lives you’ve saved alone--”

“I can’t help but think of it in terms of the lives I’ve failed to save,” Elden cut in, his voice sounding hopeless. “

“You can’t save everyone, not that it’s truly your responsibility. Every life you save is a life that would have been lost without you. No one else can do what you do. I’ve seen you agonize over the decisions you have had to make as Inquisitor. That’s why so many people follow you. Because they know they can trust you.” 

Elden still looked doubtful so Dorian tried a different approach. 

“I don’t know what your past was like, and I highly doubt you were as useless as you seem to believe, but even then your life’s worth isn’t reliant on that. I told you before, you deserve happiness regardless and if you don’t want to do this anymore, we can leave.”

‘No,” Elden said quickly. “I can’t do that, you know I can’t. Now that I’m here, I can’t just abandon everyone.” 

“You said that the rumors about us aren’t as bad as I thought,” Dorian said. “Perhaps while you’re asking Leliana to write up everything she’s heard, you can have her write up what they say about you as well.”

Elden groaned and buried his face in Dorian’s shirt. “You’re using my own tactics against me, that’s cruel.”

“Perhaps, but then you’re the one who is nearly single handedly saving all of Thedas and yet still can’t see how impressive you are.”

“I’m still afraid of what happens when you hear what I was like as a child,” Elden said, voice sad as he stared down at his hands.

“I grew up starting fights and graduated to drinking my sorrows away. We all have things in our past we aren’t proud of, it won’t change how I see you. But you don’t have to tell me now, you just need to rest.”

“I’m so tired of sleeping,” Elden said with a sigh.

“If you’re that desperate for something to do,” Dorian said. “I'm sure we can get some paperwork in here for you to do from Josephine, but perhaps that should be a last resort. Those will bring about a new sort of boredom that could prove fatal.”

Sadly that didn’t win him a laugh, although Elden did smile slightly. “Thank you,” he said. “For staying.”

“My pleasure,” Dorian said, at a loss for what else to say. 

“I know I’ve been acting weird. This can’t have been easy on you either.”

“That’d be the red lyrium,” Dorian pointed out. “Nasty stuff, that. And with the Anchor, we couldn’t be certain how it might affect you. I’m just glad to see you on the mend.”

“It felt-- weird,” Elden said. “It felt like something was trying to burn its way out of me.”

Dorian pulled his arms more tightly around Elden, not sure if he was trying to reassure himself or Elden. “Can you still feel it now?” he asked, trying not to sound apprehensive.

“No, but sometimes I dream about it. We saw what it can do to people, when Alexius sent us to the future. Then there’s the red templars, with nothing left of who they once were. It must be terrible.”

“We prevented that future,” Dorian said. “And we’re doing what we can for the remaining templars not aligned with Corypheus. Once this war is over, we can destroy every last bit of the accursed lyrium and prevent this from happening again.”

“I hope so,” Elden said, his voice small and uncertain.

“Just rest for now,” Dorian said. “Tomorrow we’ll see what we can do about putting you back to work.”

“Thank you.”

Dorian wished there was more he could do to reassure him, but how could he when he wasn’t even sure they’d live to see the end of all this? One step at a time, he supposed, so he held him more tightly in his arms, hoping to do what he could to chase away the nightmares. 

**Author's Note:**

> [I also posted this on tumblr](https://daihell.tumblr.com/tagged/for%20the%20best/chrono)


End file.
